Archive for December 2012

Of 2012

Thursday, December 27, 2012 Comments Off

Here's what I think about 2012:
The best year of my life so far.
This year has taught me to be someone better, made me understand who I could trust and who could run to. This year has taught me to be a better me. Everything that has happened to me this year really built me up to someone that can go through something that will be tougher and crazier than what I experienced this year. This year has taught myself to be the anchor that I need, the shoulder to lean on and the hugs I need. This year has been a year that answered everything (except obviously my love life), especially my prayers to meet the first love of my life and live my own life for six weeks in one of the most adorable and lovable countries in the world. This year has been an exhilarating journey for me, the ups and downs and the joy was indescribable. The world and fate have been kind enough to make me feel what I had to. So, thank you 2012, thank you.

XXX/XXX. Future

Monday, December 24, 2012 Comments Off

All I do lately was collecting some strangers' photos. Lovely women with their kids, shop clerks, some hot dog sellers, dog walkers with their colorful leashes, kids with their cotton-candys or ice cream cones, falling leaves, gardeners, some busy business people with their smartphone and some other, otherwise faceless, strangers that I captured during my time in here. I guess you could say that it was waste of films; but the beauty of it all was that, while they were doing their own stuff, busy building up their future (or at least for some they were doing those just to make it to the future), I was here, connected but unattached at the same time. I was there, blended with the crowd, but as an individual at the same time. I became one with scenery, an ignored faceless stranger that by chance got into those people life even just for some seconds. I never stopped loving that fact, the fact that everyone is a crowd but an individual at the same time. A collective group of individuals that are searching for their future, building their future and fighting for their future.

XXIX/XXX. Simple

Sunday, December 23, 2012 Comments Off

She was wearing a simple dress with silver linings. An empire waist and floor-length dress; something you could see in any shop that sell dresses for girls to go to their prom nights or debutante night. The dress was not found in a hurry, she found it when she was accompanying her friend to the flea market; the shop that sold it did not look like they would carry such stuff, but when she peeked inside, there were rows of pretty dresses, however that white dress was the only one that caught her eyes and she did not need to be measured, it fitted her perfectly. Next, came the shoes. Unlike the dress, she saw it in one of those fancy shops down the street; the silver strappy heels matched the color of her dress's linings and her eyes. As for the bouquet, a certain flowershop near her office caught her eyes and she made them do white anemones and cryshantheums bouquet that was arranged exclusively for her.
The day of the wedding, after the exchange of vows and at the reception, she gave him her bouquet, saying, "Good luck with your marriage."

Top 9 Fictional Boyfriends

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Let's face it, I'm one of those kids. I have imaginary boyfriend (boyfriends if you count fictional characters) that I built upon my own criteria that I've seen over the past 18 years from tv shows and films. Now, here is my top ten imaginary/fictional boyfriends:
  1. Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility
    You probably have heard of him before. He's one of Jane Austen's perfect specimens. He is like one of those familiar characters that you meet once in a while; he loves to read, has a passion for music and he sacrifices himself for someone he loves. His heart got broken once, because of the love of his life went with someone else and produced a love child, then he got to be the one that raised the child. He has the softest heart. He matures gracefully. In other words, he is perfect.
  2. Beast from Beauty and The Beast
    We don't know who his real name is, but he is one hell of a guy (or beast). He is one of the animated characters that's developed through the movie. At first he has a tough guy routine then he turns to this annoying guy and finally Belle manages to soothe him up. Beside the character development, this prince has a giant-like library that is filled with books (even though he couldn't read at first) and he has his own ballroom. The Stockholm Syndrome story and the cute applicable-to-life circumstances (the townsfolk hates something that they don't know, Gaston wants Belle only for her looks, the townsfolk hates Belle for being different, etc) attract me the most. And let's be honest, when he turns into the human version, you can't help but want to kill Belle for being with a person with big biceps and wide chest.
  4. Logan Echolls from Veronica Mars.
    This guy has the best bad boy attitude I've seen so far. The broken misunderstood rich boy that looks like he has every right to be naughty, considering he has a broken home; a father that has a criminal record, a mother that jumped off a bridge and an adopted sister. He loved Veronica's best friend so much, that he didn't dare to move on until he was sure with himself. Let's not forget how many uncountable times he had save Veronica from troubles. The tough guy with squishy and soft interior is really charming. And you can't ignore his yellow jeep and cheeky comebacks. Oh and there is an episode where he watches Sense and Sensibility with Veronica, isn't that just cute?
  5. Ninth Doctor from Doctor Who
    Well, by now, I think you can predict my type: the misunderstood guys who turn out to be nice. Ninth Doctor is one of them. In his reincarnation, he only understood destruction before he met Rose, now that he has met her (assuming we are talking about the AU starts from Father's Day where the original The Doctor and Rose fades behind the wall of bricks in the background and they are off to some adventures in another planet), he turns into this guy that will sacrifice everything for her (remember "I could save the world, but lose you" and that sweet episode in the dungeon in Cardiff?)-- that's a nice gesture coming from a 900 years old alien that has destructed his own race to save the whole universe. He does not walk, he stalks, like a panther to a prey.
  6. Nick from Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
    Nick is one of those people that you sometimes sympathizes with because he has an unrequited infatuation that leads to a hell of a night with a girl that is his musical soulmate. Don't we all need him with his yellow car and goofy attitude, and reassuring smiles and awkward hugs. His love for music and his passion for other people (especially his adventurous bandmates) make me melt and want to give him warm cookies. He is the kind of person that you want to settle down and have kids with, the kind of person that will make you feel happy everyday with sincere "I love you"s and warm cuddles.
  7. Warren from Sky High
    One of the, literally, hottest characters that the world has ever invented. He has the tall, dark, mysterious guy thing going on. And he reads during lunch. And he also works to earn his own money. He drives badass motorcycle. But he treats women nicely. He is one of the characters that make you want to patiently fix him with love and hope that one day he will fall in love with you. I can only wish that his smile belongs to me and I belong to his arms.
  8. Peter from Forgetting Sarah Marshall
    The cutest depressed guy ever. His obsession with his ex makes you want to turn him to love you too, makes you want to kiss away his pain by letting him into your life and buying him endless tubes of ice cream. He was willing to sacrifice everything for her, but she left him and went with a rockstar that was not as loyal as Peter, and the three of them meet in a place where Peter is supposed to enjoy and get over her. You also hope that you are the one he's obsessed with, not her.
  9. Matt from 13 Going On 30
    The good best friend type. The type of guy that will perpetually be the same no matter what you do, his childish quirks will continue to stay there even when he's old. The kind of guy that you will always trust and lean on. The kind of guy that some lucky girls never dreamed to marry but they married those guys eventually. His likable personality and humbleness really attract me the most; he will stay with you through everything, especially the rise and falls. I want to marry him.
  10. Michael from Sundays At Tiffany's
    Meet Michael, he's an imaginary friend that turns into this real grown-up guy. His down-to-earth and naivete really draw me to him. And the fact that he turns himself into a real human being also makes me want to marry him instantly. He really cares about Jane a lot and he sacrifices a lot, too. Plus, he's a great cook and he has lots of talents.

pictures belong to various people that I found through Tumblr


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We were standing alone on the platform. Each carrying a bag from some chain-store near the station. We were both ignoring the world and each other; we were stuck inside our own head, thinking and clarifying the circumstance that occurred just few hours ago that was interconnected with the promise that was made years ago. We were each standing next to each other, but did not touch each other. Our eyes tried to avoid each other and were successful. We could never let go of what happened earlier today or that day years ago. Before, we were naïve, but now, we were just plain selfish. We had to do what we needed to do, but it was not what we promised to each other. During the years of endless tv subscribes, newsletters, weddings, funerals, births and soccer games, we lost the meaning of our promise. And now here we were, standing close to each other, connected by the warmth of each others bodies, but not having the true connection of the heart.

XXVII/XXX. Letters

Friday, December 21, 2012 Comments Off

Twenty-six letters; the combination is endless, but there is only one combination that matters to me. Your name. Six letters and two syllables. I always chant your name in my head, it's therapeutic doing so; your name is like a symbol for what I can hold on to, a symbol of someone that I can trust, a symbol of something that I love. Your name does not define you, but you define your name. When I think of you, I do not think of your name, I think of what you've done and what you've achieved. I think of how sweet it is to pronounce your name slowly in my lips, how my tongue caresses the tip of my lips and how it ends with a lovely sigh. Six letters and two syllables have never felt so right.

XXVI/XXX. Diamond

Thursday, December 20, 2012 Comments Off

The best thing about her is her ring. No, not because it is a diamond ring, but because what the ring symbolises. It symbolises of us, of her and I. Of the union that we chose. Of the life that we lead together, the life that is closely linked and tightly knitted together to form a bigger picture that we cannot see now. Of the happiness and struggles that lie ahead. Of endless birthday partys and baby showers. Of her life and mine. Of us. The ring becomes something that I secretly idolizes, not because it is the most expensive tiny handcuff I've ever came across (and purchased) in my life, but because it reminds me that I have fought for something, that I have fought for being with her and that I have fought for something that actually matter. I love her, not because she is wearing the ring, but because she prefers to.

XXV/XXX. Winter

Wednesday, December 19, 2012 Comments Off

I don't know what Winter is like. They all say Winter days are cold and short, while the nights are even colder and longer, like a breath that you hold inside, waiting to be let out in the morning. I only know Summer days and nights, since I don't live in the northern part of the Earth. But from what I've heard, I think I will love Winter months, with their dark nights and yellow streetlights. With their hot chocolates and toasty rooms. With their ability to make everything turn into a long-run silent soap opera; the contrast of the pitch-dark sky and the white snow. I will love Winter months because of their ability to make everything to become silent, the constant parade of people around you (with their headphones, with their phones, with their girl friends, with their mothers, with their sisters, with their employees, with their employers, with their own monologues) will turn into these harmless hums, respecting the mother nature's way of voluming down the noise that the human often creates. I think the coldness of Winter will teach us that you will find more warmth when you are cold, you will find more generosity of some people when they are facing the harshness of the Winter. I think, one day, I will learn how to love the cold, because they bear the warmest of things.

XXIV/XXX. Outside

Tuesday, December 18, 2012 Comments Off

Her insides are not the reflection of what is outside.
Outside, like everyone else, she wears a facade with a smile drawn upon her lips. She hates her lips, though. It's not pouty, but it's not sexy thin either, it's just... there, under her nose. She hates her hair too, it's too fuzzy and unable to be tamed, so sometimes she just pulls it into a tight bun and let her body looks like it's bigger than it actually is. She hates her body too, especially her skin, it looks unhealthily, lifelessly pale and dry. So, she does not know what to do with herself. Her insides are breaking down into million pieces too, like unexplainable little pieces of leaves that you often see when you sit down on the ground, squished and fallen apart. Often her lips try to say beautiful words, but as it turns out, those beautiful words are swallowed by her need to be silent and mysterious. Cutting herself sometimes comes to her mind, but no, she cannot do that, she has dreams that are bigger than the demons inside her head. She hates facing the lackluster reality, that's why she does something that is destructible to her insides, not to her physical features. She would often abuse herself in ways that will hurt her head even more. But how to face the demons, when they are more alluring than the angels?

XXIII/XXX. Thousand

Monday, December 17, 2012 Comments Off

Now I understand why you want to destroy yourself, why the majority of your time is spent to abuse yourself mentally and physically. I think I can understand why now. The alluring life of the dark false God tempts you more than the dull reality. Thousands of billions of seconds you spent to kill the dark thoughts in your head by turning yourself to the false God, yet, I know deep down you understand that the false God does not really help you with your problems. Your kind of life does not beguile me, but sometimes I wish I spend my thousands of billions of second turning to your false God, instead of leading this lackluster reality where I feel like my world conspires against me. I don't know if I prefer to regret life or not; then even if I do choose your kind of life, will I love your kind of life or mine?


Sunday, December 16, 2012 Comments Off

The world is mad. The human nature is mad because of their need to be impeccable in any and every occasion that is known to the human nature; dances, meal times and the get-togethers. Since the beginning of time, human are known to throw parties, eat exquisite dinners and talk. We should wear the perfect dress, the lovely jewelry, the highest heels, but our bodies should be unblemished too. From year to year, there are certain criteria for human; be it their degree, their etiquette, or even their type of body. We seek acceptance to the people that thoughtlessly created them and we set our own standards.

This is why I love our time when we are creating our own world. Where, after our tiring jobs and endless tasks, we could just sit down, drink some tea and start to do the make-believe; where I will be the prettiest girl in the world and you will be the luckiest guy in the world. But you know what? I feel like we already are in real live.

XXI/XXX. Sunset

Saturday, December 15, 2012 Comments Off

Do you know that I don't like sunsets, that I prefer gazing at the sunrise. Do you want to know why?
Even though they are beautiful and colorful, but they are deceitful. You see, the sky paints colorful color; pink, blue, red or even sometimes green, but afterwards, you can see the whole sky is darkening, like creeping up into some kind of sadness or even guilt as an aftertaste of the happiness they sold to the world. I know they are just doing their job, for concluding the light with burst of color (with supposedly hidden meanings) and for making that part of the Earth feel rested. But to be honest, I've never liked it.
I prefer sunrises, especially when you see them on the beach. They are so peaceful. They slowly, tentatively, innocently creep on you, making you watch them in child-like wonder and admiration. After the whole dark sky that is filled with twinkling stars, you can see the fresh new breath of another day, another hope. I like sleeping at sunrises, too. When the sky is lighting up, dawn is near, the weather crushes the fear. When they still have the glory of the night but the hope of a new day.

And of course, sunrise is my favorite part of the day, because I get to wake up and curl next to you, and I become the first person that you see every morning.

XX/XXX. Tremble

Friday, December 14, 2012 Comments Off

The leaves trembled. The trunk gave away new breaths. Underneath, the minuscule roots travelled. The birds gathered. The sky rotated. The grass danced. The lion groaned. The fish laughed.

But you and I,
we trembled on the bed. Your hands travelled on my hair. I was gathered in your arms. We rotated and danced in the kitchen. You groaned as you cut your hand with the kitchen knife. We laughed as we took new breaths.
Good morning.

XIX/XXX. Transformation

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Lips: painted. Eyelids: brushed. Cheeks: swept. Hair: curled. Eyelashes: thickened. Skin: tanned.

She smiled to the mirror, wondering if there was any spot that missed and pondering if her smile was as fake as the handbag that was perched on top of her desk.
"Well, no use for going back now. It is all settled. I need to do this." she whispered to herself, after months of doing prep talks with herself and watching her own gestures in front of the mirror, she was finally ready.
She sighed and looked at herself again in the mirror. The transformation was necessary. The lips, hair, eyelids, checks, skin and even eyelashes were altered slightly to accomodate her plan. This was what she needed and what she wanted. A transformation of herself to become someone else, in order to be loved by him. Shallow, she knew. But she only got two months to live, why would not she become someone else, at least she could feel like she was loved by the only person that she loved.


Wednesday, December 12, 2012 Comments Off

You are pink cloves in the summer. Blossoming and blooming wildly around the garden, untamed and free.
You are snow blizzard in the winter. Calming the constant chattering of people, enchanting and soothing.
You are rainy days in the spring. Pouring gently and freely, instantly making everything purer.
You are the leaves turning their color in the autumn. Maturing every single second, growing into something better to prepare for the coldest of winter.

You are the sun and the sky. The moon and the night. The love inside my heart. The whispers of heartbeats inside my body. The light of my soul. The friend to my darkness. I love you, I love you, I love you.


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I'm fond of the sea and the forest, he said once.
The sand is my bed and the trees are my playground, he wrote.
The smell of the sand meets the ocean always calms me and the sound of the forest always soothes me, he uttered.
The beach and I, we share the same look. The same fondness of being swept away all of the sudden in the middle of the night. When it tides. We both share the same wonder for the moon, he told me.

But never once, he said about me, the girl who looked out for him when we are in the forest and at the sea.

XVI/XXX. Thanks

Tuesday, December 11, 2012 Comments Off

"Thanks for letting me stay in here." I said to his chest, my fingers curled on top of his chest.
My head on his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat and smelling the lovely manly musk of his neck. I traced the lines of his neck, feeling the veins throbbed lulling me to sleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically.
"Where? This low-ceiling building?" he chuckled. His chest rumbled.
I shook my head.
"Where then?" he asked. One of his hands sneaked to my hair and played with them, twirling and tugging them.
"Here." I said, pointing at his chest.
"My arms?" he asked.
"No, your heart."

Of Cold Days

Sunday, December 9, 2012 Comments Off

Cold days feel even colder when I realize that these are the times that make me feel the solitude. Perhaps not the kind of solitude that will stab my very bones, but still, these cold days remind me that I have no one in particular to share all of my cold skin with. No one that could stroke my arms. No one that could hold me when I need some strength to do what I must under the harsh rainy days. No one that could share a cup of hot peppermint tea with me. No one that could help me find the blessing of sunlight at these time of a season.
This makes me feel like somehow my existence is ignored by the whole part of humanity. I think it has something to do with the part that I have no one when everyone is snuggling and cuddling like there is no tomorrow.
Cold days make people do harsher things. The fact that the weather cannot cooperate with anything that they are trying to do currently. Their mood got darker or even moodier than usual. They spend more time to do things more than usual.

And where can I run?

XV/XXX. Order

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She is destructive, she herself notes.
Not to her family, not to her friends, but to herself. To her own mind, to her own physical body, and to her own heart. Her soul itself has been long gone of natural cause, a certain heartbreak that she always refuses to tell to anyone why. The truth is she doesn't even know why she doesn't have a heart, she just woke up one day and she couldn't feel anything but a hovering emptiness in the middle of her chest, between the lungs. Her heart, from then, is out of order.
She does not really care if she is actually destructive to herself. Again, no one has ever loved her, so why should she care about herself? And the part of her body that actually can love herself has already ran away. So the question is: where can she run when she herself no longer care about her?


Saturday, December 8, 2012 Comments Off

She took a gold lighter from her bag. The lighter was engraved with poetical words that her Dad carved one day under the heavy sunlight of midsummer day. One would imagine that she would then pull a cigarette from her bag, but no, she did not do such thing, instead she lighted it up and put it close to a small pink box that contained a large size of heavily decorated cupcake. There were three skinny colorful candlesticks on top of the cupcake, she put the lighter closer to the cupcake and then the candlelight lighted up.
"There." she breathed.
The wind breezily blew around her, the candlelight wavered, and she sighed. She looked around, her beanie was about to fall off from her head, but a hand pulled it up.
"Have you been waiting for a long time?" the other person asked, guiltily.
She smiled cheekily. "Yes, but the wind blew you to me."
The person kissed the top of her head. "Well, I know you've been metaphorically and literally waiting for me for a long time, so, I'm sorry."
She glanced up and smiled. "It's okay."
"Am I worth it?"
She nodded. "Happy birthday, husband."
"Indeed, wife, indeed."

XIII/XXX. Denial

Friday, December 7, 2012 Comments Off

A couple of thousand times I told her that she was pretty.

But she denied it. She always denied the fact that she was pretty.
My Dad always said that I should never tell someone that they were ugly, there was no such word that hurt everyone the most like "ugly" and we should always tell the women that they were pretty and graceful. But as they say, it was harder to convince them that they were pretty more than to say the truth in front of their face. However, I always fought and I always told her every time I saw her, that she was pretty and even prettier if she was in my arms.

But she denied it, always. The twinkling sound of her laughter told me that the denial was, in fact, her version of the truth. She always believed that she was not pretty, never ugly, but just the opposite of pretty. She always told herself that, she was not pretty. But, I thought of the opposite.

A couple of thousand times I told her that she was pretty.

XII/XXX. Knowledge

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Since I was a kid, I loved putting my wristwatch to my ear. I loved listening to their ticking hands, it was therapeutic for me. I would literally spent hours just listening to the ticking hands as I watched the world went by. I saw the sky turned dark, felt the air grew colder and smelt the night sky, the realization of what I was doing hit me: I spent the three hours of my life away for just listening the ticking hands and watched the surrounding.

But you know what?
The knowledge of it all calmed me more than it should have. And I was grateful for it.

X/XXX. Silver

Wednesday, December 5, 2012 Comments Off

Onyx was the colour of your hair when we met. Some of the curls tucked behind your ears, while the others jumping around; they grew like the wild grass, but I did not have the same urge to pull them. They were rightfully there. I loved the way you ruffled your hair sometimes, like one of those indie guys when they were playing on stage. To come and think about it, you went to that phase too once, didn't you? When you and your friends were trying to be one of the top three indie bands in our neighborhood? We had our laughs about that when you got into university, you found yourself there, didn't you? Then you forgot all about indie songs and music when you got your first paycheck and we stupidly spent it on Indian food and five pints of ice cream that weekend. After that, we promised ourselves to never spend it on food anymore. Next came promotions, weddings and baby showers; somewhere in between were ours. Then everything, that was spinning around so fast, got slower and slower.

Some silver hair are already spread on your temples when I am writing this. You are nervous and looking over the mirror, as if something weird will suddenly turn out on your clothing or your hair will turn to be blue or pink. You are such a nervous wreck right now, keep looking on your suits, but you are doing good, love. You are doing good. I can't help but keep smiling when I see you rubbing your temples, a definite sign when you are having anxiety attacks. And I can't help but kissing away all of your fears, especially the part when you are saying "I'll kill him if he mess up our daughter

XI/XXX. Prepared

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Everything was thoroughly planned and prepared. From the beginning until the end.
Her shoes were off the rack, her books were off the shelves, even her little trinkets that she placed around her room wer off. Some of them were packed neatly at her trunks that she would give to the nearest homeless shelter, while she kept the rest with some money she had earned for the past four years. She did not leave anything significant. You see, the first time she got there, she took a Polaroid, it was intended to be inside her ever-present diary, however, it was proven useless, but she kept it on her wallet, just in case. When she created the plan, she knew that the Polaroid was, as it turned out, useful. As it was, she gradually took things off their respective places and put them on her trunk. Now, the room was as spotless as the first time she was in.
As she stood in the middle of the room, she said goodbye for the last time and then she smiled.
It was as if she was never there.

IX/XXX. Move

Monday, December 3, 2012 Comments Off

Someone once told me that we are the children of the stars, as we carry their atoms inside of us. When I was a kid, I did not know the meaning of 'the children of the stars', but now, when I finally get to know you, I think I can grasp the idea of it.

You see, you remind me of stars. As exquisite as the stars when they rotate; I could never help but look at your bones when you flex your muscles, as the skin of your body moves to accomodate the change in the way you stand (or sleep, or eat, or drink, etc), because your movements are as graceful and as enchanting.
You remind me of stars. As unique as each stars, they rotate in their own constellations, their own path, none of them are the same; I could not help but admire the way you think, the way you pick roads less traveled, the way you find small passages through the difficulties in your life that could make you breathe easier.
You remind me of stars. As blinding to the darkness around the stars, because stars were born in the darkness, but they guide themselves.

You see. I still have many reasons, do you need to hear them?

VII/XXX. Formal

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They say blood is thicker than water. But in my life, family is just a title. A name to be called.
The family of Nash.
It sounds odd in my lips. Go on, try it, it sounds odd in yours too, I bet. But the name of Nash has created an empire of wealth. Of long-night business meetings, room services food, and concrete playgrounds. I don't think I have ever spent an entire night doing nothing since I was a kid. I was raised into the family that speaks in the name of diamonds. We got along when needed, other times, we just succumb into silence and watch as the global enterprise becomes something more giant, trying take over other small businesses all at once. My siblings and I were raised with sitters that we called surrogate mothers. We have gala dinners every night that require formal attires and table manners. Etiquette was the first thing we learned as a child, not how to use pencils properly, but how to hold your utensils properly. Family for me is just formality. 

VIII/XXX. Companion

Sunday, December 2, 2012 Comments Off

I want my companion now.
Someone that can be my soulmate, my friend, my lover, my bedtime story teller, my personal psychiatric, my wrestling partner, my personal shopper, my adventure partner, my talker-during-cinema, my fight club fighter, my food taster, my happy pill, my 9-to-5 worker, my warm blanket during cold nights, my literal shoulder to cry on, my scene stealer and above all, a physical version of my soul.
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